He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
by Children of the Shadows
Summary: 'Do you believe in love at fifty-second sight? The moment I saw you, I can't explain it.I kept watching and watching and watching, until I realised I'd been watching for over a month and I can't stop.' RS


**Title: He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not**

**Disclaimer: **No Clue who's the original picture taker but got it off here: iym-health. blogspot. com 2012/ 10/

**Rating: **M

**Hello! I'm back again; this time with a little AU-type one shot. As usual, I'm experimenting with styles as usual and this time I thought of putting together two very uncanny bits together: jazzy romance and obsession/mild stalkerish tendencies. I have to say, this is dedicated to one of my reviewers (I can't remember her name). I remember in one of my older reviews, she mentioned Landon Pigg's coffee shop song and said that it somehow reminded her of Remus and Sirius. So, this one's dedicated to her. ;) Hope everyone likes it and ends up with a toothache at the end.**

* * *

Remus runs faster, the low leaves of the wilting cherry blossom trees brushing against his head as he passes through them. The dimmed sunlight graces him every now and often through the peek of brambles and leaves. His feet strike a puddle, splashing water all over his trousers. The wet grass is going to leave stains again, but this is the only shortcut Remus knows to work.

The bell jingles, as Remus rushes in through the backdoor.

'Cutting it awfully close, Lupin!' The owner, Adrian, warns with a smile, as he flips over the sign from "Closed" to "Open". 'Set the cakes in the display. I see customers already.'

It's overwhelming, working in a coffee shop. The smell of freshly baked cakes and croissants and bagels fill the air, wafting through the tables and into every cramped corner of the room. It's a lovely aroma to come to in the morning, especially when the cold of the winter is slowly approaching. For Remus, it's almost become like a routine drug that clogs his senses and has his fingers reaching to break off little nibblets of chocolate cake from the back of the tray.

It's a small little coffee shop; very quaint with plush maroon sofas gathered around to create little seating corners. Golden glass beads hang at the windows instead of curtains, casting the most brilliant shadow of colours throughout the room, when the sun hits just right. Even the table settings are of an odd assortment, with brilliant handcrafted Rajasthani tablecloths and cutlery that could be antique or could be something picked out of a forgotten thrift shop.

It is a quiet shop and that's why most people come here: to revel in the lack of society noise. They are just _more_ enough to keep busy and just_less_ enough, so that it is only Remus, the owner, and a younger Columbian boy called Juan. The people who didn't come for the quiet often came for Juan and his accent. Remus didn't quite see the charm, since the most he has ever understood out of Juan's mouth is "cake" and that is only because Remus really likes cake.

'Lupin, Tea-Boy is here.'

Remus's eyes widen and he quickly dives behind the counter, reaching for a silver spoon from the drawer. Consciously he checks his reflection on the spoon, wondering if he parted his hair to the right that perhaps he could hide the flecks of grey in his caramel hair. Frowning, Remus turns the spoon to see if his reflection perhaps looks better on the outside of the spoon than the inside. It honestly didn't.

'Lupin, what are you doing?' Adrian asks, curiously looking over Remus's shoulder from behind. He laughs as Remus startles and hits his head against the counter top. 'Go on then, get going. Make sure you tell Tea-Boy's friend that we have a new toffee flavour today.'

Remus tries to hide his embarrassment with his hair as he walks over to the table. "Tea-Boy" is actually a man called Sirius and his friend is called James. Remus knows his name because he often over hears them talking to each other. Remus also knows that they are special, in a way that involved wands and magic, because he can perfectly sense the aura around them. It's different from the rest of the muggles and Remus can always tell, because he knows he is the same, even if he tries to hide it. Remus isn't sure why they come to a muggle café every morning, but that's how it's been for several months now. Sirius always asks for tea in a coffee shop and Remus is always the one to serve them, and read out the specials for the day while blushing furiously.

Remus is crushing, a bit like a little school girl.

'Ta, mate! Your coffee is always the best thing about my mornings,' James sighs contently, taking another sip out of his mug. 'Honestly, work's been driving me insane these days. I would have jumped off the roof if it didn't hurt so much.'

Sirius hums, not quite paying attention. He is gazing non committally at his croissant, his eyes unfocused and still hazed from residue sleep. Sirius, Remus assumes, from his unkempt black hair and inside out shirt, isn't quite a morning person.

'Let me know if I can get you anything else,' Remus replies with a smile and a nod, and walks away.

As he peeks back over his shoulder, he catches Sirius watching him, grey eyes suddenly intense. Remus looks away quickly, right hand flying to rub the back of his hair awkwardly. He feels a little silly and a little self conscious, but still, he can't help but look back again as discreetly as possible. Light pink cherry blossoms that had been unknowingly lodged in his hair, fall to the floor.

Sirius is still watching him.

…_**He likes me…**_

* * *

Remus stares at the spilt milk, disappointment washing over him. 'Juan,' he says softly, reaching for a towel to clean up the mess. 'Will you take the orders for that table for me? I need to clean this up before Adrian gets angry.'

Juan looks to the table. 'Tea-boy?' he asks, in his thick accent. 'Where's his friend, I wonder?'

James isn't here this morning. There's someone else with Sirius instead: a woman. A very beautiful woman, with bright red hair that flows all the way down to her back, and green eyes that sparkle like precious gems. She sits close to him and talks to him with a hand on his arm. It is intimate and in way, taunts Remus into understanding that apart from how many lumps in his tea, Remus really doesn't know much about Sirius. Remus isn't sure why he was hoping. A gorgeous bloke like Sirius is bound to have someone beside him.

Remus scrubs the counter furiously.

'Excuse me?'

Remus stops and looks up. It's Sirius's woman and she's leaning over the counter, smiling brightly. Remus smiles back weakly. 'Can I help you?'

'I was looking for some extra sugar actually,' she replies, twirling her hair between her fingers thoughtfully. 'My drink's too bitter and I think the little Latin fellow is busy with another customer.'

Remus curses, as he notices Juan flirting quite blatantly with a woman sitting beside the window. 'I'm horribly sorry,' Remus apologises, though he doesn't quite look at her. 'I'll make sure to give him a good talking to.' He passes her the little jar of sugar, retracting his hand subtly, just as she reaches out hers to take it. 'Is there anything else?'

'There is actually,' she replies slyly, pulling out a small hair pin. She takes Remus by surprise as she grabs the entire front of his hair and expertly clips it back and out of his face. 'You really are quite lovely,' she says admiringly, tucking errant strands of hair behind his ears. 'What a shame to hide it…'

'Now, Lily, control yourself,' Sirius cuts in, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her back. 'Don't flirt with whoever you like. Remember, you're married now.'

Lily laughs, shoving Sirius playfully. 'Oh please, you're just jealous out of your mind. Why don't you admit it? Besides, he's quite adorable…'

Sirius spares Remus a fleeting glance; an indecipherable look that sends shivers down Remus's spine. Remus looks at the two of them, walking shoulder to shoulder, back to their table. Their conversation is easy and laughter is frequent. He doesn't want to think about how lovely they look together, because it hurts just a little bit. Still, a crush is simply a crush.

So he shrugs and starts changing the coffee filters. Momentarily, he catches his reflection on one of the glass cabinets and notices the hairclip in his hair. It isn't an ordinary black one, but a fancy silver, with butter-yellow roses carved intricately onto the surface. Remus deftly traces one of the petals with his finger.

…_**He likes me not…**_

* * *

'Hello!'

Remus startles, falling back against the door slightly. 'Hello,' he replies curiously. 'Sorry, but we're closing now.'

Sirius rubs both his gloved hands together and stomps his feet a little to ward of the cold. 'I'm not here for coffee. I-er-it's a bit stupid actually, but I was just passing by and I happen to have some hair clips with me. So, I thought maybe I could give them to you for-er-' Sirius goes red under Remus's confused expression and he pulls at his wool cap idly. 'I mean, you probably think the one Lily gave you is a bit girly, so I thought you could use some plain ones. You really do look better with your hair out of your eyes and er-' Sirius shifts a bit. 'James tends to get jealous easily…'

Remus tilts his head, utterly puzzled with Sirius's ramblings. He shuffles his feet, blinks and looks around, tightens his scarf around his neck, and then stares at Sirius back again. 'James?'

'Ah, he's the friend who comes with me. They just got married, and James's extremely possessive of Lily. If he sees that clip on your head…'

'Oh.' For some reason, Remus feels relieved, happy even. A part of his stomach erupts into a cheesy dance they sometimes do at the little restaurants for children; the kind with the man in a chicken suit. He tries not to show it, but he has a feeling he is grinning like a maniac. 'Thank you,' he says, as neutrally as possible, as he exchanges Lily's flowery clip for the ones Sirius got him. He isn't sure how Sirius thinks these are any less girly. They don't have flowers on them, but each of the eight pairs is dyed a different colour of the rainbow, and the last pair had, what Remus thought were bunnies attached to the head.

'Here, let me help you,' Sirius says softly, pulling out the purple pair and pushing Remus's hair back with it. Sirius's fingers linger in Remus's hair and their faces are close, even though there is no need for them to be. Remus can see puffs of fog with every heavy breath Sirius lets out, and the way Sirius's hair sticks out from under his wool cap in coordinated angles. He is mesmerised by the changing colour of Sirius's irises under the flickering street light, as if watching shifting smoke from a chimney.

Remus looks away and laughs awkwardly at his reflection. He looks exactly how he feels at the moment: like an utter ponce. 'Thank you,' he says, eyes focusing on the dull brown leaves dancing around their feet. 'I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then.'

'Wait!' Sirius cries out, stopping Remus by the elbow. 'Er-I mean…maybe I could walk you home or something…er…' Sirius rubs his nose idly. 'If you don't mind, of course…'

Remus blinks, feeling his heart stop momentarily. He wants to say yes or break into that restaurant-dance again, but he is utterly inept at showing emotions. He also wants to scream on top of his lungs, but his throat suddenly feels clogged and as if hoping for an answer, he looks up at the sky. The moon is nearly full, only a bite of it missing from the side. He has only three days left for the transformation and he ought to rest and conserve energy. But...

Remus shakes his head and looks to the right; his house was too close. 'Maybe I could walk you home, instead? I have some leftover sandwiches and cake.' Remus holds up his little paper bag.

Sirius's grin is so charming; Remus feels his heart fluttering like mad all over again. 'Merlin, this is so embarrassing. I don't even know your first name.'

'Remus.'

'Remus,' Sirius tests. 'How do you do? I'm Sirius Black.' He shakes Remus's hand vigorously, shooting a naughty wink Remus's way. 'I…er…make brooms.'

Remus raises an eyebrow. 'The sweeping kind or the flying kind?'

Sirius breaks into a cough. Taken aback, he looks at Remus wide-eyed. 'How did you-? You're one of us?'

'Not quite,' Remus admits, pulling out the sandwiches from his bag and offering one to Sirius. 'I've never actually had any contact with the Wizard World, apart from you and your friend. I've never even been to Diagon Alley or any of those places.'

'What about school?' Sirius asks through a full mouth. 'Didn't you go to Hogwarts? You should have gotten a letter.'

Remus feels the familiar pain in his chest, the one that has learned to fade over time. 'I was homeschooled. There were…circumstances, so I never had the chance, really. Ah, but I know all my spells; my dad was a brilliant teacher.' Remus chews thoughtfully. 'I think my dad really wanted me to be a part of his world, but at fifteen, I realised how futile that was and left.'

'I ran away, too!' Sirius cries, swallowing quickly. 'You're probably the only wizard I've met who hasn't cringed from hearing my name.' At Remus's puzzled look, he explains further, 'I'm from one of those rich pureblood families. The kind with high expectations and low morals; let's just say I never fit in and leave it at that.'

'Oh,' Remus says, not sure whether he is suppose to sympathise or congratulate Sirius. 'I didn't run away. I still meet my parents on holidays. I just went off on my own because I felt they needed to live for themselves. Without having me as a burden, I mean.' Remus still remembers how much his mum and dad had wept for him to stay. It had been painful to leave, but Remus hadn't wanted them to suffer because of him anymore. 'Sorry; I'm telling you all these things even though we barely know each other.'

'Ah, no!' Sirius exclaims, grabbing Remus's hand suddenly. 'I'm really glad you did. To be honest, I've wanted to talk to you for months now, so it's nice to see a different side of you. Not just the one who makes brilliant tea,' Sirius laughs cheekily, but doesn't let go of Remus's hand. Their clasped fingers fall in between them and Sirius's thumb rubs lightly over Remus's knuckles. 'You're actually a lot like Lily predicted you would be. She's uncanny at times, that girl.'

Remus blushes and tries not to be too self conscious of the feel of Sirius's hands against his. 'How do you mean?'

Sirius stops on the front steps of an apartment complex. 'When's the last time you ever did something for yourself; a time when you were truly selfish?'

Remus stares. 'I'm here,' he whispers finally, looking at all the different patterned curtains on every floor of the complex. He squeezes Sirius's hand tightly and wonders which flat is Sirius's, hoping to God it isn't the one with the pink frilly curtains. 'I'm here: standing at your doorstep and hoping that maybe, just maybe, you kind of fancy me the same way I do you…'

Sirius blinks in surprise for a moment, before breaking into a wide grin and a wild cheer, his feet shuffling up and down the stairs in the most ridiculous dance. He laughs and laughs and laughs, and finally, when Remus feels like an utter git, he pulls Remus by the waist and plants a big kiss right on his lips. As far as first kisses go, Remus thinks this is his worst. Sirius is still chuckling into Remus's mouth, his lips sloppy with enthusiasm, and hands pulling Remus so close that Remus finds himself being lifted off the ground. Their noses bump and the angle is horribly awkward. But Remus also thinks it is the best kiss he's ever had, because it is Sirius attached to his lips, and really, that's all the reason Remus needs.

'Wow,' Sirius whispers, pulling away but still keeping an arm around Remus's waist. His eyes are glazed over and he has the silliest, most crooked smile Remus has ever seen.

Somehow, Remus finds himself liking the mismatched tilt of Sirius's lips and even loving the little quirks, like the way Sirius wiggles one of his ears unconsciously. 'Yeah,' Remus smiles, looking up at the sky. The moon is clearer than ever, but after tonight, he can't really bring himself to be upset about it. He isn't even sure if any of this is real, or if it's one of his girly fantasies. 'I guess I'll see you tomorrow or something…'

'Yeah, I guess,' Sirius says softly, then as if changing his mind, stops Remus again, 'No. What am I agreeing with you for? I mean, don't go. Ugh, I mean, if you don't have any plans, maybe you could come in for some tea? Mine isn't half as good as yours, but maybe the company and conversation will make up for it?'

At first, Remus isn't even able to keep up with Sirius's babbling. In truth, Remus isn't standing still with a constipated look on his face because Sirius has convinced him to stay. Remus is honestly trying to concentrate on the words cart wheeling out of Sirius's mouth. Sirius takes his confusion as an affirmative and pulls him inside and to the right.

Before Remus knows it, he is standing in the brightest apartment he has ever seen. It isn't messy, but there are mismatched furniture strewn all around, and a particularly orange lamp that stings Remus's eyes just to look at it. It reminds Remus every bit of Sirius: all odd bits and bobs, and blinding vibrancies. It is also very much like Sirius in a way that despite all the tacky colours, the house is still somewhat _cool_.

'Are you very fond of motorbikes?' Remus asks, staring at the stacks of motorcycle magazines and books on the kitchen counter.

Sirius laughs as he fills the kettle with water. 'You can say that. I own a muggle one that I drive to work and back home. I left it at work today, since I was hoping you'd agree to walk with me.' Sirius blushes endearingly and tries not to meet Remus's eyes. 'Ah, but all these magazines are for our research! James thinks I'm going starkers, but I honestly think a flying motorcycle would be utterly brilliant. The mechanics are hard to figure out, so I'm stripping down everything to the last bolt to reconstruct it and- what?' Sirius touches his face self consciously, puzzled. 'Why are you looking at me like that?'

Remus chuckles and shakes his head. 'It's nothing. It's just when you talk about your work: you look like a child. I can't explain it. It's cute, I suppose…' He laughs harder when Sirius looks offended. 'It's a compliment,' Remus explains through his laughter, 'honest. It's good to see you enjoying something you're passionate about.'

Sirius looks up through half lidded eyelashes. 'I'm passionate about you, so do I have permission to enjoy you as well?'

Remus is so taken aback by the horrible pick up line that he doesn't even notice Sirius sauntering close to him, until their very moment their lips touch. After that, he's simply melting into Sirius's mouth. He relents to the tongue that coaxes him, teases and plays with him, till he's weak at the knees. He can feel the muscles in Sirius's shoulder underneath his shirt, tensing as Remus's hands explore tentatively.

The kettle whistles piercingly and Sirius parts only for a moment; just enough to switch the stove off. 'Fuck the tea,' he whispers huskily against Remus's lips. 'I should have done this sooner…'

Remus is constantly surprised by Sirius's words and actions, and for the umpteenth time tonight, Remus feels taken over by Sirius's pace. Sirius has slipped his arms under Remus's knees and in one swift motion, hoisted him up into his arms, bridal fashion. It is utterly humiliating, but Remus's words of protest are swallowed by Sirius's wanton lips. Sirius is impatient, Remus realises, as they fall into the bed. Impatient and hungry, his hands constantly moving all over Remus's body and trying to remove too much clothing all at once. It's impossible to keep pace with him, and Remus finally catches up when somehow, Sirius manages to get Remus's head stuck halfway through his shirt.

Remus laughs as they both struggle with it. 'Breathe a little, yeah?'

Sirius doesn't say anything. As Remus finally frees himself, he realises Sirius is staring; particularly at the scars on his back where Remus has been unable to completely heal his wounds. They don't hurt, but Sirius's staring makes Remus uncomfortable and he pulls the sheets towards him as a shield.

'Sorry,' Sirius says apologetically. 'I-'

'Ignore them,' Remus cuts in, 'please. I don't want to have to explain them yet.' Remus shuts his eyes tight; hoping to God Sirius doesn't reject him.

'It's okay,' Sirius whispers, and Remus feels chaste kisses on his eyelids. Thin fingers coax Remus's own to loosen around the sheets. Sirius's voice is soothing and his kisses are gentle, as they travel down Remus's neck. 'I won't ask. Not today.' He pushes Remus down, hands gently sliding down Remus's back and lips moving lower and lower to Remus's chest. 'But someday, when you'll trust me…'

Remus arches right off the bed, as Sirius's teeth graze his nipple. It's overwhelming; Sirius's enthusiasm. He's vigourous and possessive, in a way that he takes nothing by stride and seizes everything within his grasp. His hands are touching Remus everywhere, higher, lower, and then in places that make Remus's toes curl and his teeth clench. His lips and tongue mark and claim everywhere they touch, as if feeding upon Remus's hoarse cries of, 'no, Sirius, stop!' and 'I can't…if you…'. What drives Remus truly mad, however, is the _feel _of Sirius against him. He feels how much Sirius wants him in the way Sirius rubs against him and finally pushes into him with a swift thrust. He feels Sirius's arousal progressing and growing to its peak, every time he moves deeper into Remus.

'Sirius, I-' Remus feels his lungs can't keep up with him anymore and Sirius reaches out, pulling him closer and allowing Remus to wrap his arms and legs tightly around him. Remus can taste the sweat pooling over Sirius's collarbone. 'I can't…I'm going to-'

Sirius comes before him, his fingers digging into Remus's hips so hard that it sends Remus over the edge. Remus's eyes are pinched shut from the force as he comes, but he sees blinding flashes of light scattered across his eyelids. There's a deafening beating in his ears, but it's rhythmic and it echoes again and again, like a shadow following its master. Heartbeats, Remus realises, before losing himself to exhaustion and total darkness.

When Remus finally wakes up, he is a state of surrealism. He isn't quite sure whether he's in a dream or reality, but reckons he's stuck with the fine line between both. It is a dream, because he feels the comfortable warmth of another naked body beside him, and Remus isn't the kind to easily succumb to someone. Even if he drawn to the person as he is to Sirius Black; Remus is the guarded kind. Remus is also extraordinarily ordinary, while Sirius isn't. It is also a reality, because even in his ponciest dreams, Remus has never thought of sleeping on purple sheets.

So Remus opens his eyes. Closes them. Opens his eyes. Closes them. Opens his eyes and comes face to face with Sirius's drowsy smile.

'You're amazing,' Sirius whispers, kissing Remus on the forehead. 'I can't even believe you're here…'

Remus looks up, hands instinctively moving up to curl his fingers in Sirius's bed hair. 'I'm here. I think…'

Sirius laughs throatily and snuggles into Remus's side. 'Do you believe in love at fifty-second sight?' Sirius finds endless humour in the confusion on Remus's face. 'The moment I saw you, I can't explain it. I kept watching and watching and watching, until I realised I'd been watching for over a month and I can't stop.'

Remus hides his face in Sirius's neck. He's too embarrassed to even say thank you, though perhaps this isn't the ideal situation to be saying so.

'I can't explain it,' Sirius continues, wrapping both arms around Remus and leaning his chin on top of Remus's head. 'I only gathered the courage to talk to you last night, but it feels smooth and easy. I-'

'You should shut up before I die from embarrassment,' Remus supplies, his voice muffled against Sirius's neck. He feels the vibrations of Sirius's laughter and his scratchy stubble scratching against his forehead in a mock kiss.

'I'll pick you up from work tonight. There's this place I want to take you to…'

Remus is too shy to meet Sirius's eyes, so he lets his gaze wander, settling on a beautiful painting on the wall. The painting is breathtaking as it is odd; a mesh of whites and pinks and deep reds. It takes a while for Remus to realise that they are intricately painted carnations and even longer for him to realise that if you looked long enough, the colours swirled together to form whorls of endless petals.

…_**He likes me…**_

* * *

The moment Remus gains conscious, he knows that he isn't supposed to go to work. He never does after a transformation night and Adrian never complains about him taking leave every once in a while. However, his wounds are less severe this time and easily healed by a few quick spells. This gives Remus even more reason to believe it is okay to go to the coffee shop and at least, work the morning shift. Remus wants to see Sirius. He wants to see him more than anything, because these past three days was all it took for Remus to fall completely in love with the man. Remus has grown accustomed to Sirius always being there in the mornings and always waiting outside the shop for Remus to finish.

The moment Remus sees Sirius, he believes everything is all right. The owner isn't very happy because Remus doesn't look well at all. There are severe bags underneath his eyes and a visible inertia in his movement. Remus knows Sirius sees it as well, because his eyes follow Remus as intensely as ever, eyebrows knitted with concern. He puts a hand over Remus's when Remus brings their orders to the table and even James comments on how pale Remus looks. 'You should sit down, mate,' James says, but Remus is too far gone to hear it. His muscles feel lax and he has the distinct feeling of the world rushing by him as he falls.

The moment Remus wakes up, he knows that he should have stayed home to rest. He's in a bed, staring at white washed ceilings. Everything is white, even the sheets that his fist is loosely closed around. The only pop of colour comes through the window to his right, where a small, orange pot marigold stands. There's a distinct pungent smell that's clean, but not entirely pleasant to Remus's nose. There is also an overwhelming aura in the air that Remus knows only too well.

He already knows where he is, but he still asks the hunched figure on the chair beside his bed. 'Where are we?'

Sirius looks up, his eyes bloodshot and tired. 'Mungo's.'

Something heavy drops in Remus's stomach and he knows; he knows it's over. He knows it in the way Sirius looks at him, but doesn't quite meet his eyes, and the way Sirius's hands and feet are trembling, even though he is seated firmly in his chair. Remus hasn't been to Mungo's since he left home, but he knows all the formalities and procedures all too well. There isn't any chance for Remus to lie through this because Sirius has seen the documentation. Sirius _knows_.

'Is it true?' Sirius asks, scratchily. 'About you: is it true?'

Remus sits up and stares at Sirius's clenched fists. 'It's true. I'm a werewolf.'

'Fuck,' Sirius curses, burying his face into his hands. 'Fuck! Are you fucking with me?' He runs his fingers through his hair and gets up, breaking into a mad pace on the floor. His swift walking disturbs the white bed curtains on the side and every once in a while, he bumps very slightly into the bedside table. 'Bloody hell, I can't believe I-'

'Are you disgusted?' Remus asks, feeling his throat constrict and his eyes prickle. He looks up at the ceiling, unable to take Sirius's agitation and anger; unable to face Sirius as he confirms everything Remus already knows about himself. Yes, he is a monster. Yes, he is a fake. Yes, he has deceived everyone around him and yes, he is ashamed. But no, he can't take it back. 'Are you disgusted, Sirius?'

'No,' Sirius replies immediately. 'No, I'm not disgusted. I'm…I'm confused. Everything is so sudden and overwhelming. I'm not sure what to believe and how to react and I…'

'Do you regret it?' Remus asks and this time, Sirius's answer doesn't come as quickly. Remus's control slips and the tears he'd dammed behind his eyes fall. It's pathetic, he thinks. It's pathetic to have to be so weak at this point and even more pathetic to succumb to this blinding pain in his chest. Sirius has already seen the worst side of him, but to also have to see Remus like this is humiliating. He wipes his eyes roughly and looks to the window.

'I don't know,' Sirius answers Remus, after a long time. 'I honestly don't know anymore.'

Remus does not turn to look even when the door closes behind him and Sirius has clearly left. He does not let his tears fall because he is not so weak. He bears the pain, just like he does everything else and laughs a little at how foolish he has been these past few days. It's calming, he thinks idly: the afternoon sunlight pouring into the room and the little pot marigold sitting on the window sill.

…_**He hates me…**_

* * *

'Remus, have you been eating lately?'

Remus smiles at Juan. 'Sure. Why do you ask?'

Juan shrugs and gets back to dusting the sofas with Remus. 'You've been looking a little peaky off late, is all. I was just wondering if you were doing alright…'

'I'm fine,' Remus assures, moving on to the next table. Remus _is_ fine. It's been two weeks since the incident and Remus has fully recovered from the transformation. He comes to work every day, like usual and helps Adrian with his baking in the early mornings. He serves coffee to all his regular customers, making sure to smile at each one of them and wishing them a pleasant day as they leave. At the end of the day, he helps Juan clean up the shop, while Adrian washes the dishes and throws out the trash. It's pleasant this way; and he has even started to understand Juan enough to carry out a conversation.

'It's been a while since they've come, hasn't it?' Juan asks, scrubbing hard to remove a particularly stubborn stain. 'Tea-boy and his friend. I wonder what happened.'

Remus turns and starts on the tables closer to the window. 'You know how it is. They probably found another coffee shop they like better.' Remus smiles brightly and continues cleaning. In truth, he himself doesn't know what happened to Sirius after Mungo's. Sirius never came back. Remus didn't expect him to, so he set everything that happened between them aside and carried on.

Winter's finally here and the biting cold has finally transcended into snow. Sometimes, watching the dimmed morning sky, Remus misses Sirius terribly, to a point where he feels he can't breathe. But Remus thinks it will pass and melt, just like the season and the snow.

Remus plays with the glass beads hanging from the window, watching as it slips off his fingers. He shakes his head and laughs at himself slightly, before pulling all the beads to the side and tying them up securely. There's a slight tapping noise coming from the window and Remus finds it odd that there are birds out this late. He ignores it, but the tapping grows louder and louder, until Remus finally looks up irritably. And stares…

Sirius is standing there. It's blurry behind the fogged up glass, but it is unmistakably him. Sirius waves when he realises he finally has Remus's attention, and uses the sleeves of his long coat to wipe the glass in circles until his face is clearly visible. He looks very much like the first night he'd been waiting out for Remus: a woolen cap on his head and black gloves covering his hands, his feet stomping the ground to keep warm. He's trying to mouth Remus's name, but every time he does, his cold breath fogs up the glass and he has to wipe it again to be able to see through.

Remus doesn't even know why he's still standing static here, with his mouth hanging open.

Sirius finally gives up trying to say anything and starts writing, his finger making long sketchy strokes on the misty glass. It isn't anything decipherable and it shows on Remus's face, as he frowns and wonders if Sirius perhaps isn't writing in English and wants to speak to Juan instead. He tries looking at it upside down, but it still makes very little sense. Sirius catches Remus's confusion and scrutinises his writing as if trying to figure out what's wrong.

_uoy evol I_

At this point, Remus thinks it is better to turn away and get back to work. He doesn't know why Sirius is here and he hates that his heart is beating holes into his chest just from being able to see Sirius. It is better to turn away. It is better to turn away. _Turn away…_

But Sirius is writing again. He crosses out the first sentence and concentrates very hard on writing the second, looking utterly constipated. Remus struggles to read it at first, but when Sirius is finished, Remus finally understands. He understands and he laughs and laughs and laughs, because he's sure he's dreaming. He laughs so hard there are tears in his eyes and he feels like his heart is going to burst any moment.

_I love you._

Sirius shuffles his feet awkwardly on the other side of the glass. His hands are fiddling with the inside of his jacket and Remus thinks he's seen it all, until Sirius pulls out a single red rose. It isn't entirely straight and looks a little battered from the ride in Sirius's pocket, but it's perfect in every single way. Some of the petals fall down on to the snow, a stark red against pure white, and Sirius smiles sheepishly.

…_**He loves me…**_

* * *

**The end. :D Before I finish, I should mention that the flowers used in the fic all had a little bit of a deeper meaning on their own, apart from the usual sequence of things. Yes, I know it's girly. But I did mention it was supposed to be kind of a jazz/romantic atmosphere. T_T**

Cherry Blossoms: Transience of life

Yellow Roses: Friendship and caring

Carnations: Pure love, affection, admiration, good luck

Pot Marigold: Grief, despair

Single Red Rose: I love you


End file.
